


Because I Liked It

by TriscuitsandSoup



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Dark, Blood Drinking, Bloodlust, Dark Derek, Dark Derek Hale, Dark Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Dark Stiles, Dark Stiles Stilinski, Dom Derek, Dom Derek Hale, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Serial Killer Derek, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is John, Sinister Fluff, Sub Stiles, Unhealthy Relationships, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Vampire Turning, Werewolf Derek, dominant derek, mental manipulation, submissive stiles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-15
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 18:40:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 13,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4575465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TriscuitsandSoup/pseuds/TriscuitsandSoup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Serial killer AU where Derek has Stiles turned into a vampire so he has an excuse to kill without the pack turning on him. </p><p> </p><p>  <i>Derek needed to kill, Stiles needed blood. There was an easy solution to the problem.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Kill

**Author's Note:**

> This is a serial killer AU where Derek has Stiles turned into a vampire to give him an excuse to kill. More tags will be added as the story progresses.

Derek needed to kill, Stiles needed blood. There was an easy solution to the problem.

Derek stood in the back alley, bloody arms crossed over his leather jacket. Underneath the cliched flickering lights and stagnant air Stiles fed on the eviscerated corpse. Derek had enjoyed killing that one.

Derek loved killing. He loved watching the blood drain from a persons face, loved how he could snatch everything away in just a second. He was addicted to it. he spent most of his evenings just thinking about the next kill, about shredding flesh like paper with his claws.

Stiles gave Derek the excuse he needed, a reason to kill that would drive others to protect him. What did it matter if some random drug dealers died if it meant their precious Stiles got to live? He had become a monster, and thanks to the groups resident vampire nobody would have to know. Except of course for Stiles, but he wasn't complaining. 

"Do you want him to starve?" he would ask the pack whenever they tried to convince him otherwise. They would flinch away at the response and Stiles would pretend to be upset. Stiles refused to kill on his own, and nobody wanted to force him. Deaton had tried providing blood packs, but a few pints here and there did nothing to stop his blood lust. 

They tried finding a cure for Stiles, but Derek shot down every idea his pack came up with. even the well researched ones. It was never because they wouldn't work, just because Derek didn't want them too. 

After all, Derek was the one who'd turned Stiles into a vampire in the first place. 

Derek held the struggling boy as the vampire punctured his neck. Stiles screamed, kicked, and twisted, but both supernatural creatures were strong enough to keep him in place with only minimal effort. Derek could feel stiles heart pounding in his chest as every drop of blood was pulled from him.. 

Once Stiles struggles started to grow weak the vampire pulled away. He cut his own wrist and pressed it against Stiles mouth while Derek held his jaw firmly, making him drink. They fed him the vampires blood slowly at first, letting him pull away every few seconds to breathe, until Stiles stopped pulling away and started drinking on his own. After he'd gulped down a few mouthfuls the vampire pulled off, wiping his wrist on the hem of his shirt. "That should be enough, he'll be a vampire sometime in the next few days." 

Stiles shuddered and spat obscenities at them. His gaze was hazy and his breathing labored. He smelled of fear and nervousness, but also . . . something like relief and maybe a bit of thrill. Derek used the hand that had been holding his jaw to stroke the boys hair. Stiles heart skipped a beat. 

"No way to speed it up?" gruffed Derek curiously, relaxing his tight hold on Stiles as the boys body weakened and his shoulders slumped. He still thrashed but his movements were more sluggish now. The vampire shook his head.

"No. He'd turn faster if he had more blood, but I don't have any more to give him." The vampire shrugged, it really was a pity. 

He was the first person Derek killed for Stiles. The vampire didn't have time to react as Dereks claws slashed out and sliced his throat. He'd told the vampire that if he helped to turn Stiles he wouldn't be killed, but he really didn't need any loose ends. 

He dropped the boy down onto his knees next to the body. He seemed out of focus, his body was shaking and his skin shone paler than ever underneath the distorted light of the alley. Stiles coughed. Dark blood splattered on the pavement.

"Eat," he said, crouching down beside the boy. He lifted the deceased vampires head to expose its neck, rubbing Stiles back encouragingly. 

Stiles seemed dazed for a moment, not seeming to be in control of his own actions. He was slumped over with his palms on the ground, breathing heavily. He turned to look at Derek. His eyes were taking on a dark, twisted color, Derek thought it looked beautiful on him.

He noticed the exposed throat Derek had so kindly slashed for him. His mouth opened to reveal two pointed, but dull fangs. A low hiss emitted from his throat.

Derek moved back as raw instinct over took the teen and he plunged his newly emerged fangs into the body. He drank crudely, his fangs weren't yet sharp enough to cut cleanly through the flesh. Some blood dribbled down the side of his mouth. 

The vampires blood wouldn't satisfy him, not fully, but it would speed up the process until he was turned. It didn't matter though, Derek planned on feeding Stiles again soon. 

Derek watched him feed, a small smile on his face.


	2. Changing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Stiles didn't tell the pack what happened with the vampire. He told them he was out researching, the vampire surprised him, Derek saved him. He didn't mention that Derek took him from his home, fed him to the vampire, then killed the creature when he proved more useful dead than alive. If Stiles had admitted what actually happened that night he would also have to admit his part in it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here is the next chapter, sorry for the delay!

Stiles didn't tell the pack what happened with the vampire. He told them he was out researching, the vampire surprised him, Derek saved him. He didn't mention that Derek took him from his home, fed him to the vampire, then killed the creature when he proved more useful dead than alive. If Stiles had admitted what actually happened that night he would also have to admit his part in it. 

Scott knew Stiles always carried mountain ash with him, no matter where he went. He could have used it against Derek, he could have fought harder and maybe escaped. He didn't. Maybe that's why Derek seemed certain he would keep quiet. Maybe he knew. 

He wasn't surprised when Derek drove them back to the loft after the attack. His father was out of town at some seminar in Washington. There was no one waiting at home for him, and he doubted Derek would want to leave him alone with Scott, or at all. Even if he did Scott was on a trip with Allison to Colorado, they wouldn't be back for a week.

He starred out the window and watched the lights go by. Derek had wrapped him up in a blanket before placing him back in the passenger seat. His whole body was trembling and shivering at odd intervals. He wrapped the blanket tighter around him as the cramping feeling in his stomach grew stronger. He wanted to throw up but managed to keep it down. 

As they came to a stop light a clawed hand appeared on the back of his neck and forced his head away from the window. 

"Stiles," growled Derek, eyes angry and red. "You say one word - to anyone - and I'll rip your throat out. Understand?" Stiles blinked at him. His thoughts turned to how Derek had easily slashed up the older vampire in a matter of seconds. He nodded. 

Derek furrowed his brows, he almost looked . . . concerned. He released his hold on Stiles neck and continued to drive. Stiles slumped back against the window. 

When they got back to the loft Derek carried him bridle style up the stairs and dumped him onto the bed. Stiles noted that it was already set up for two people, with additional blankets and a first aid kit nearby. He wondered how long Derek had been planning this, why he had been planning this. 

He tried to sit up but Derek pushed him back down again.

"Go to sleep Stiles. Your body needs to rest," Derek said as he pulled the blankets over him. Stiles rolled onto his side and blinked his tired eyes. Nobody ever talked about how having your /pupils/ blow up to twice their normal size burned like hell. He wondered if Dereks eyes hurt when they flashed red. 

"Why?" Stiles choked out. He wondered if he had ever been so quiet in all his life. 

"Because turning takes energy. Now sleep." Derek didn't understand the question, it didn't matter. Stiles closed his eyes. He could still feel his pulse pound but the time between beats was growing. His mouth hurt. 

Stiles thought about the vampires body still in the trunk of Dereks car. The body he had fed from. He wondered how, or where Derek planned to dispose of the body. He tongued over the back of his growing fangs. They hurt somewhat, but the pain became more of a dull throb after feeding. His tongue hurt too, but he couldn't imagine why. 

A few minutes later Derek crawled into the bed next to him. He didn't touch him. Dereks presence made him feel safe. It was an unusual response to his attacker - possibly murderer if the vampires blood didn't take - getting into bed with him. 

"Keep your mouth shut," he reminded the boy. It was a threat and Stiles knew it, but it didn't phase him. It reminded him vaguely of the anti-molestation shows he'd seen as a kid, the whole 'if you tell you'll get in trouble too' shtick. But Stiles had no intention of telling. 

 

 

_"How long before he's turned?"_

_"Anywhere from twenty-four hours to a week. It depends on how much blood he's had and," the vampire paused for a second. "Lost."_

_"He's kind of a scrawny thing, does that help?" The vampire took the picture that slid across the table and frowned._

_"Are you sure he'll make a good vampire?"'_

_"I don't need him make a good vampire, I need him to be an awful one."_

Derek had planned on keeping Stiles alone with him for at least a week, if not more. He wanted to ensure that Stiles would bond with him as his creator. The vampire he'd killed told him that bonding took time and sometimes didn't happen at all if the fledgling vampire was surrounded by too many unnecessary influences. Scott and the rest were definitely unnecessary influences. 

Derek needed the bonding to take. If it didn't he wasn't sure how to ensure Stiles kept his tongue in check. Violence seemed an easy solution, but it rarely intimidated Stiles once he had his mind set on something. He could threaten the sheriff and Ms. McCall, but that would involve Scott and that couldn't happen. His plan only worked if the pack didn't know who had created Stiles.

Regrettably if threats and violence didn't work he would need to kill the boy. He didn't want to kill him and he didn't think it would be necessary, but Stiles was only turned to satisfy his blood lust, and Stiles _would_ satisfy his blood lust, one way or another. 

It would be easy enough to pass off his death as just a casualty of the bite. _He was too weak, he didn't make it,_ he would tell the pack. They would be upset and they would mourn. Derek would be upset too, Stiles was annoying, but he was resourceful. It would be a shame to lose a valued member of his pack.

Until then he needed to monitor and train Stiles properly. He'd asked Deaton for blood capsules earlier in the week, he made up an excuse about trying to lure out a vampire but he sensed Deaton hadn't bought it. It wasn't really important, Deaton wouldn't try to interfere. 

At present Stiles lay writhing on his bed. He had kicked the sheets away from him and bit down on the pillow. His eyes were clenched shut. Derek stroked his hair in an attempt to be comforting. The change was always painful, no matter the creature. He'd helped betas through their changes before, but this wasn't a werewolf he was dealing with. 

They had only managed to sleep a few hours before he woke up to Stiles crying out and vomiting. Thankfully the vomiting portion of the change seemed to be over. 

He reminded Derek of a teething puppy as he gnawed and chewed on the pillow, leaving puncture-marks everywhere he bit. His fangs were still dull, but they were growing and sharpening. At least enough to mutilate the pillow. 

"Stiles. Stiles!" he shook the boy, trying to separate him from the blanket he'd latched onto. Stiles let out an angry hiss, yanking away from his touch and baring his fangs at him. He finally opened his eyes, they were almost completely black.

Derek let his eyes flash red, letting out a warning growl of his own. Stiles stopped hissing and starred at him, blinking his dark eyes. Slow recognition spread across his face. 

"Derek?"

"Stiles." Dereks wolf purred in approval when the boy dropped the blanket and moved towards him. It was a good sign the bond was taking. His behavior was unintentionally submissive as he crawled up to Dereks side and laid down next to him. His body was shaking. 

"I'm /hungry/ Derek. I feel like shit," he had regained some of his lucidity. Derek ran a hand over Stiles back, feeling the tense muscles underneath his shirt. His mouth was open and he was panting, fighting to hold onto a breathe he no longer needed. 

"I know. Just hold on a little while longer and I'll get you fed. Your body needs to purge anything unnecessary and make room for your new biology." Stiles let out a groan and pressed his face back into the pillow. He didn't try biting at it this time. 

"Am I going to die?" he asked weakly. 

"The human part of you will," Derek nodded. He watched Stiles with a morbid curiosity. It was that same curiosity that drove a child to pull the legs off an insect. 

"But the part that survives will be stronger, faster, more capable. You can protect yourself, your family. You won't need Scott to do it for you." Stiles perked up slightly, he tried to hide it beneath a tremble. 

"I-I don't. I didn't want this Derek. I want to be human." His voice rasped as he spoke. 

"You're heartbeat is slower now, but I can still tell when you're lying. You wanted to _want_ to be human." Somewhere down in his heart Stiles knew it was true. 

"You could have asked me."

"You wouldn't have agreed, this was the only way." Dereks hand continued running through his hair gently. Stiles knew what he was saying was true, he wouldn't have agreed even if he wanted. _Did I want this?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay, had a rough spot editing and I wanted to make sure the chapter was long enough. Next few chapters will have Scott and the others in them as well. Again if there is anything anybody wants to see particularly post it below and I'll try to make it work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter comes to visit, and Derek starts training Stiles. This part could be read as Steter if you wanted it to be, but the main pairing in this is Derek/Stiles.

Peter and Derek sat on the bed, watching Stiles struggle through his last few hours of humanity. His heartbeat had slowed down to only thirty or so beats per minute, his breathe would come and go, but as Derek suspected the vomiting portion was over. 

"He would have made _such_ a lovely werewolf," lamented Peter, giving a mock sigh as he routinely carded his fingers through Stiles hair. Derek growled lightly every time his uncle laid a hand back on the boys body. He was already feeling possessive, he had a lot invested in him. 

"I didn't need a wolf, I have enough wolves," Derek bit back. 

He'd changed Stiles out of his bloody T-shirt and into an old black hoodie that smelled like him, like pack. He would be more comfortable that way, and it would send a clear message to his uncle about who the boy belonged to. He still wasn't certain that Stiles would keep his mouth shut, he was even less certain about Peter. 

"I might have a funeral for him later," Peters voice was deceptively sad, but his eyes were curious and predatory. He'd had a few vampire contacts - including the one Derek killed - but he'd never seen a human change into one. It was a fascinating process, quieter than a werewolves but just as violent. "Rest in peace my skinny, defenseless, human Stiles." 

"I only asked for the package from Deatons, you can leave at anytime." He hadn't trusted Stiles alone in the house, so calling Peter was the next best solution. He was only supposed to deliver the package.

He hadn't expected Peter to barge in once he smelled Stiles, and blood. Peter had been angry at first, annoyed that Derek had killed his contact and 'killed' Stiles. After a while he calmed down, but he insisted on staying and watching over the boy as he transformed. Derek reluctantly allowed it. 

"He was my _favorite_ you know. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to break other childrens toys on the playground? How would you feel if I killed something of yours?" Peter sounded genuinely bitter. Dereks eyes flashed red. 

"You killed my sister," he barely suppressed the growl. 

"Well she wasn't your _favorite_ sister," this time he couldn't suppress it, a deep, angry growl ripped from his throat, baring fangs. Peter looked unfazed and gave up on conversation with his nephew. He continued to run his fingers through Stiles hair, putting Derek on edge.

"What is it you plan on doing with the boy? Keeping him as a pet?" His tone was more serious now. Derek didn't bother answering the question, and that was all the confirmation Peter needed. 

"Trust me, there's no one out there who can understand your . . . _desires_ better than I can. But you're playing a dangerous game here. Scott won't allow his best friend to be corrupted." Peter had a point, Scott would be a troublesome presence. 

"He hasn't stopped calling for the past few hours," Derek said with annoyance. He already was a troublesome presence. "But he's still in Colorado, he won't be back for at least another day. I'll deal with Scott once he gets here."

"And what of Stiles? Do you think he'll just bow to your whim? Because I can tell you from personal experience that even in the face of danger he's stubborn and headstrong." Peters spoke with pride. He'd always liked the nettlesome human. 

"If he becomes too much of a problem I'll have to kill him," Derek admitted, Peters eyes flashed. "Stiles is stubborn when he wants to be, but he'd do anything to save or protect his friends. So would Scott. Once they realize Stiles is _dangerous_ to be around their very human parents, they'll do what is necessary. Are you going to help me with this?" He didn't really need Peters cooperation, but he did need his silence. 

Peter stopped petting Stiles when the boy squirmed and buried his face into the still bite-marked pillow. He withdrew his hand and turned his attention back to Derek. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

"Of course I'll help you Derek, it's what family is for. Even when you break my things."

Derek growled. Peter laughed. Stiles didn't make a sound. 

 

\---

 

Stiles still felt strangely numb once he woke up in the morning. He still felt sick, but that was all he felt. He should have been repulsed, he should have been sad. At the very least he should have been angry. He wasn't.

The loft was dark. The windows were covered over in those thick, light-blocking curtains. He noticed his T-shirt that had been soaked through with vampire blood had been replaced with one of Dereks hoodies, it was soft and warm and smelled like the alpha. He tried not to take too much comfort in it. He was relieved to find he was still wearing his pants. 

Derek lay next to him on the bed. His pulse was loud in Stiles ears. Loud and beautiful. Stiles jumped when his fangs shot out unwillingly at the sound. He tried to retract them and winced in pain. The gums surrounding his new teeth were still sore.

The sudden motion roused Derek from his sleep. He blinked tired eyes at the boy before sitting up. His eyes were dark and heavily lidded. He hadn't slept much. 

"How are you feeling?" his tone was gentle, far gentler than he was used too. 

"I. . . . don't know," said Stiles after a moment. He really didn't. The only emotion he could easily discern was confusion, everything else was just a muddled cocktail of misunderstanding.

"It's best if you don't think about things you cant change," the werewolf advised. He was watching him closely. "Are you h-" 

Stiles head shot up when he heard his phones vibration. He hadn't seen it since Derek had confiscated it from him. It was sitting just out of reach on the table nearest to Derek. Derek moved to pick it up before he could, checked the caller ID, and then put it down out of Stiles reach without answering.

"Who was that?" 

"It's just Scott. He's been calling for you all night," Derek sounded annoyed. Stiles frowned. 

"Is something wrong with him?" Derek barked out a short, bitter laugh. 

"You're becoming a vampire and you can only worry about whether or not there is something wrong with /Scott/."

"I want to talk to him," he insisted. "If he's calling then something is wrong."

"Later, Stiles." He picked up the phone again and put it into one of the tables drawers to silence it before turning back to the boy. "I'm not finished with you yet." 

If Stiles still had a heartbeat it would have sped up. It occurred to him then that there were about a million other places Derek could have put him to sleep other than in his bed. Then again, if Derek really wanted to hurt him he could have done it while he was half lucid or unconscious.

"Don't look so nervous. I asked you if you were hungry." His tone was calm but expectant. It seemed like Derek was looking for a specific answer, but Stiles could only guess what that might be. 

"I . . . my stomach hurts." It wasn't a direct yes or no, only a statement. Derek could view it however he wanted. Derek only nodded.

"You're probably just hungry, I'll feed you soon. I had Peter bring over some blood capsules."

"He knows?" asked Stiles, unaware that the man had been sitting only a few inches away from him earlier. 

"He figured things out," Derek shrugged. He could care less if his uncle knew about his plans for Stiles or not. He'd arranged the meeting with the vampire, and that was all Derek had needed him for, at least for the time being. "Don't worry about what he knows. I have a present for you."

Derek got up from the bed and moved over to the nightstand. He took the bottle sitting on top of it and shook a pill out onto his hand, then he turned back to Stiles, who was watching him curiously. 

"Open your mouth," he said, sitting down on the bed next to the boy. Stiles blinked a bit, extending his hand instead. Derek shrugged, he could have the first one however he liked.

"What is it?" He examined the pill and sniffed at it. It smelled inviting enough. 

"It's a blood capsule, I got them from Deaton so they're safe. Take it, it'll make you feel better." Stiles popped the pill in his mouth, he didn't exactly trust Derek anymore but he'd had ample opportunity to hurt him already.

The pill tasted better than anything he'd ever had before in his life. It was like drinking water after years left in the desert.He gulped down the red liquid after breaking the capsule with his teeth. He starred at Derek expectantly for more. His eyes were beginning to bleed black. Derek shook another pill out onto his hand. 

"Open your mouth," Stiles extended his hand again. "No," Derek shook his head. "Open."

"Why?" He looked suspicious. He was right to be. 

"Because, it's the easiest way to teach you self control." 

"Self control, or submission?" The kid was smart. 

"Stiles. This is important, it's good for you to learn to listen. In wolves we have a hierarchy of obedience to prevent rogues and ferals from doing whatever they want without thinking of consequences. So," he waved the pill in front of his eyes. "Open your mouth." Stiles shook his head once. 

Derek sighed, he was going to have to force Stiles back into his more instinctual, unintentionally submissive vampire state. If the bond had formed even a little it would make him more likely to respond to Dereks prompts and commands; if it hadn't the hand-feeding would help it along.

He took the pill and rolled it in the palm of his hand, before puncturing it with a claw. The red liquid spilled out, scenting the air with the smell of blood. Stiles eyes widdened, and started to fade further into black. He let out a low hiss.

Derek smirked, seeing the wavering resistance in Stiles eyes. He held out his bloody palm for the boy to sniff. Stiles leaned closer, sniffing hesitantly. His fangs had already popped out, and his eyes were almost completely black now. Knowing the blood was in the capsule was one thing, seeing it, smelling it, and having it so tantalizingly close was another. 

"Go on," he spoke softly, like speaking to a stray animal. Stiles sniffed again, before seizing Dereks wrist and giving him a tentative kitten lick. 

Once he was convinced the blood really /was/ blood he started to lick more in earnest. Derek chuckled and let him wipe away the blood with his tongue. It was longer than a humans tongue, not by much but still noticeably. It was rougher too. 

Once his hand was cleaned he grabbed the bottle and shook out another pill. Stiles eyes didn't leave the bottle. 

"No," said Derek firmly, putting the bottle in his pocket. Stiles eyes snapped back to him.

"Open your mouth," he said, tapping Stiles lips with a finger. He would have liked to let Stiles lick it off his palm again, but he didn't want to scare he boy off once he'd returned to his senses. Unlike the previous night Stiles wasn't in pain, he wouldn't be falling unconscious, and he would undoubtedly remember everything that happened to him. If he wasn't careful he might do something that would make him distrust Derek once he'd returned to his normal state. 

Stiles licked at his lips and wavered. For a minute Derek worried he'd pushed him too fast, Stiles was headstrong and it would take more than one session for him to fully start obeying Derek, bond or not. Then he opened his mouth.

"Good boy," Derek praised and tried not to grin, he placed the pill on Stiles tongue. Stiles chewed it and swallowed it down greedily. He tried again, taking out a pill and holding it up. He was met with the same hesitation, but it ended sooner this time. Derek prompted him once, and he opened his mouth. He was improving. He would need to call his uncle later and let him know just how well training was going.

"Hm, maybe I won't give you back to Scott so soon," he mused as he continued to ignore the vibrating cell phone in the nightstand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will finally have some Scott in it, and Stiles who's conscious for more than five paragraphs.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Scott finally comes to get Stiles. This is a pretty long chapter but it didn't seem right to break it up. There's some angst/comfort between Stiles and Scott in this chapter, as well as some Stilinski family feels. It's a lot more emotional than I thought it was going to be when I set out to write it, so anybody who doesn't want to listen to an emo Stiles skip ahead. Hopefully there will be more Derek and Stiles in the next one.

Scott had always been a tumultuous mix of often under expressed and over expressed emotions. His incessant nature resulted in near constant phone calls every two minutes for nearly three hours until Derek answered. He'd arrived at the loft equal parts furious, guilty, and concerned, but his prevailing emotion quickly became confusion. 

For all Stiles seemed attached to his humanity he didn't seem to mind being a vampire. When Scott arrived he had made it all the way up to the ceiling with his claws, and was dangling upside down over the rafter. 

"Scotty!" he shouted when he saw his friend, dropping down from the ceiling to lunge at his friend, faster than either of them expected. Scott braced himself and pulled Stiles into a warm embrace just as soon as he was close enough. He nearly refused to let go. It wasn't until Stiles started to playfully nip at his shoulder that he released him.

"You should have waited until I came back, you should have called me, I would have protected you," Scotts voice was sad, guilty. He blamed himself for what happened to his brother. If anything they were even now, at least that's how Derek saw it.

"Don't worry about it, dude. Now that I'm a bat I don't have to be a robin all the time!" Scott didn't think it was funny, Stiles didn't care. He gave his usual goofy grin, he was back to being his normal obnoxious self. 

"I was so scared something happened to you," anxiety and relief rolled off the young wolf in waves. 

He had been furious when Derek finally answered the cell phone. He hadn't even listened to Derek finish explaining before he started lobbing accusations. He accused Derek of somehow being involved, of wanting to hurt stiles. Derek just listened calmly and waited for his rational to return.

_"Why would I want a vampire, Scott? Do you not think I have my hands full enough with wolves? And _why_ would I let this happen to _Stiles_?" Scott thought for a moment, he realized his accusation was a stupid one._

_Stiles sat quietly on the couch, listening to the conversation. His enhanced hearing allowed him to catch every word spoken between the two. He didn't try to interrupt, he didn't even ask for his cellphone back._

_"I'm sorry Derek. You were just trying to help him. Thanks for . . . you know . . protecting him and stuff." The delightful awkwardness of teenagers._

_"I think he's sill in shock, he's been pretty quiet. Maybe you should come alone, we don't want to overwhelm him, I think he just needs his best friend." Pulling the 'best friend' trigger always seemed to work well on Scott. He apparently needed some time alone with Stiles as well._

But Scott and Stiles weren't alone. Derek leaned against the wall with his arms crossed, watching the two boys talk. Stiles had given no inclination that he intended on revealing the truth, but if he did Derek wanted to be close by. 

"Are you ready to go home now? We can watch Lord of the Rings and make popcorn." 

"Is that such a good idea?" Derek interrupted for the first time. His wolf growled at the thought of the vampire leaving his home. He hadn't anticipated actually _liking_ Stiles once he was turned.

"Oh, you're right. Can you even eat popcorn? Can you go outside?" Scott frowned. "How am I supposed to feed you?" Stiles opened his mouth, but Derek cut him off. 

"No, I mean do you really want a newborn vampire to be left alone with his human parent?" Scotts frown deepened. 

"He can stay at my place for a few days. Besides, the sheriff isn't home and Stiles wouldn't do anything to hurt him," Scotts blind faith in his friends was stupid, but admirable. 

"Just like how you wouldn't hurt Stiles, not even during a full moon?" Scott flinched, remembering the few times he'd almost torn out his brothers throat. 

Derek hadn't actually planned on having the boy move in with him permanently, but now that he knew just how . . . tamable . . . Stiles could be he found he didn't mind the idea, and it would make hunting with him easier. 

Reluctantly, after a brief debate Derek consented to letting Scott take Stiles home. He didn't have a good enough reason to keep the boy, - aside from self interest - and arguing for it anyways would just seem suspicious. He'd planned on handing half of the blood capsules over to Scott as well, but decided against it. If Scott was so certain he could take care of Stiles on his own, he would let him.

\-------

Scott was eager to get Stiles back to his house, he barely trusted Derek and he didn't like how long it had taken Derek to answer his calls. 

Stiles on the other hand, was on Dereks side. He wanted to stay with Derek. Derek had food. But he'd promised Derek he wouldn't say anything to Scott about the blood capsules, and so long as he continued to feed him he wouldn't. 

The werewolf still intimidated him. He hadn't done anything cruel or mean to him since he'd been changed into a vampire. He hadn't been forceful, he didn't growl at him, but Derek would always be Derek. Stiles had enough self awareness to realize that as a vampire he was stronger and more durable than he had been before - a simple shove against a wall wouldn't even be enough to bruise him - but Stiles had never been a fighter, so the thought never occurred to him to fight anyone. 

_"Keep quiet, and I'll make sure you get fed," Derek ruffled the hairs on top of his head. There was a hint of fondness in his voice, it sounded strange coming from a sourwolf like Derek._

_He nodded in agreement. His eyes didn't hurt anymore when they turned black, he didn't feel hazy or confused either. Being a vampire wasn't so bad._

He still had questions for Derek, but they could be answered once they were alone again. For now he just wanted to enjoy being back with Scott, and a return to normalcy. 

"H-how can we get him back to my place? Won't the sun like, burn him or something?"

"Aw, dude that's gonna suck if I can never go outside again. At least I won't have to go to school anymore," and there was the return of Stiles goofy grin. "Hey maybe now I can sneak into _your_ window at night. I already made it halfway up Dereks wall," he motioned over to the claw marks littering the wood. Derek shot him a brief glare. 

"I would appreciate you not using my walls as a scratching post in the future." Stiles shrugged. 

"He's more sensitive to light now - especially the sun - but it won't kill him. Just keep him out of direct sunlight, cover him up with a jacket or something." 

Derek ended up driving the pair home, Scott in the passenger seat and Stiles in the back. Stiles had his hoodie up and was covering his eyes with his sleeves. He started hissing in pain once they were outside and continually groaned every time the sunlight bled through the fabric. Scott kept giving him sympathetic glances in the mirror. 

"How are we supposed to feed him?" Scott asked after a minute of awkward silence had passed. He realized Derek hadn't answered the question earlier.

"I already talked to Deaton about it. He can't provide the amount of blood Stiles needs to be kept healthy, but there's a group of hunters up north in Oregon who occasionally have to . . . eliminate fellow humans." Scotts heart jumped. "They're open to the idea of helping Stiles out, as long as he isn't a threat." It was a lie, but a well planned one. The hunters he was referencing had existed long ago, but they were barely active anymore, and they had always been on good terms with the Hale family. He instructed the remaining members to contact him if anybody went rooting around about them. 

"If we're going to hunters, can't we talk to Chris Argent?" 

"Do you really want to involve the Argents?" Derek gave Scott a knowing glance. "They'd probably lock him up in a cage, hell they _have_ locked him up before." Scott dropped the subject.

He pulled up outside the McCall residence. 

"Let me know how he does," he motioned to Stiles, who was still covering his eyes with his hands. "Maybe get him some sunglasses?"

"Will do, thanks Derek," Scott shifted around awkwardly for a minute. He looked like he was about to say something, then stopped and got out of the car. More teenage awkwardness. 

Before Scott could reach Stiles side of the car Derek turned around and faced the vampire boy. 

"Stiles." The vampire squinted over at him. "Good boy. Here," he held out a few of the capsules he'd snuck into his jacket pocket. Stiles grinned and snatched them up just before Scott opened the door.

"OW! Scotty! You blinded me!" He allowed himself to be dragged from the car and up the sidewalk to his friends home, palming the pills into the sleeve of his hoodie as they went. He kept his eyes carefully covered, letting Scott maneuver him with a hand on his back and one on his arm. It was only a moment or two before he heard a door open and felt himself being shoved inside the familiar territory of the McCall household. 

He kept his hands pressed to his eyelids while Scott went around shutting window blinds and turning off lights. Being temporarily blinded left him to rely on other senses, primarily his sense of smell. He sniffed tentatively.

The house smelled so much different now. His nose wasn't quite as powerful as a werewolves, but it was still overwhelming. He could smell the laundrey downstairs, the shampoo in the bathroom, even the box of cookies he'd left on Scotts desk a few days prior. He felt a bit of sadness realizing he wouldn't get to eat them. It was a sort of selfish sadness, the kind you only got when you knew you only had reasons to be thankful. 

It dawned on him then that the vampires bite could have killed him. It rushed over him in a wave. He felt a powerful gust of fear when he realized he would have to tell his father. John Stilinski had never once indicated that he felt less about Scott because he was a werewolf, but would he feel the same way about his son being a vampire?

Scotts arms wrapped around him from behind, pulling him into a warm hug. Stiles turned around and buried his head into the crook of Scotts neck. That was a bad decision. 

From where his nose pressed against Scotts jugular vein he could hear his heartbeat. He'd heard it the first time Scott had hugged him too, but Derek had just fed him, and there was so much going on and he was so excited to see his friend that he could ignore it.

The sound was loud in his ears, the sound of Scotts blood pulsing through his veins. Derek had warned him that he couldn't survive off werewolf blood, but it sounded so tempting and nice. He let out a subconcious hiss. He felt Scott try to withdraw from him and his claws jutted out, digging into the space between his friends shoulder blades.

"Stiles!" yelped Scott. The exclamation made him release and he moved back. His eyes were black. Scott frowned. "Stiles! What's wrong?" He sounded so concerned, worried, unaware that Stiles was barely containing the urge to strike at him. He backed away and turned to face the wall, resting his face against it and taking deep breathes that did nothing to calm him. He didn't want to disappoint Scott so soon, Scott said he trusted him. He trusted Scott. 

"Stiles," he felt Scotts hand on his shoulder. He started to hiss but cut it short. He focused on the sound of his own ineffective breathing, not on Scotts heartbeat. His worry only made it faster and louder.

"I-I'm fine," he said after a moment. "I just got . . . a little overwhelmed." He took another deep breathe. When he turned back to face Scott, his eyes had returned to normal. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you." He meant it.

"It's okay, everything's okay," Scott smiled. "I'm here for you. I won't ever leave you." He tried to hug Stiles again but Stiles shook his head.

"I just, it's all the scents you know? They're so new, it's putting me on edge. Must be the laundry smell on your shirt or something. You said we could watch Lord of the Rings." Stiles tried to change the subject. Maybe a loud movie or three would distract him from the beautiful blue jugular vein in Scotts neck.

"It was overwhelming for me at first too," Scott admitted. Stiles already knew that, but he smiled and let his friend comfort him.

They retreated up to Scotts room. While Scott fumbled around with the DVD player he popped one of the red capsules Derek had given him into his mouth. It made him feel a bit better, but it also made him wish he were back in Dereks loft. When Scott turned around again he jumped. 

"Dude your eyes are black again." Stiles blinked a few times. 

"Oh, sorry. Are they better now?" He tried to will the darkness out of his vision.

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "Are you gonna be okay at school?" 

"I don't know," Stiles sighed, and flopped down on Scotts bed. "I feel like I'm okay, but . . . it's only been a few days, ya know." Scott nodded. "How am I gonna tell my dad?" His tone sounded defeated. "Just walk up to him and go 'Oh, hey dad, you know how I said I'd never let myself get hurt? While I'm a fucking vampire now. Don't eat red meat, but eating _people_ is just the best'." He threw his arms in the air in a gesture of mock enthusiasm. Scott frowned. 

"You know he'll still love you, Stiles. You're his whole world."

"And now I'm dead," Stiles buried his face into one of Scotts pillows. It smelled nice, it smelled like family. 

"Don't talk like that, Stiles. You aren't dead, you're just . . . missing some vital organs," the attempt at being lighthearted was evident in his voice. 

"I was scared as hell when my mom found out I was a werewolf, but she still loves me. I don't think she ever wished for a second that I was anything other than who I am." He sat down next to Stiles, who reflexively pulled away. Scott ignored it. "Your dad won't hate you. For the record, I don't hate you either." He rested his hand on Stiles back. Stiles stayed quiet for a few minutes. 

"Hey Scott?" Stiles voice sounded, muffled from underneath the pillow. 

"Yeah?" 

"Can you shut the window blinds?" 

"So we can watch the movie?" 

"No, because it's burning a fucking hole in my retinas. But I'd like to watch the movie now too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Stiles and Scott in this is purely platonic, brotherly love. Not romantic.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles and Derek are reunited, while Peter makes gay jokes. There will be lots more Stiles and Derek interactions in the next chapter.

Stiles missed Derek. Well, in truth he missed the blood capsules. He missed food. Derek hadn't given Scott any of his, and Stiles had run out days ago. They tried contacting Deaton, but it would take him time to get anything human. 

As each hour passed every quiet beat he heard increased its hold on him. He found himself stalking Melissa McCall around the house, listening to her heartbeat. Scott's was appealing too, but dissimilar and Derek had warned him against biting werewolves.

_"Melissa!" Stiles shouted. He jumped up from the bed with a supernatural ease and raced to the kitchen; eager to greet the woman returning home. Scott chased after him, confused. He found Stiles in the kitchen hugging his mother like he hadn't seen her in years, face pressed to her neck. For a moment Scott felt his heart skip a beat. Then Stiles pulled away._

_"Geez, Stiles, I'm glad to see you too?" she laughed, giving her pseudo-son a pat on the back._

_"You smell so nice," he grinned at her._

_"Thank you for the attempt, Stiles, but I smell like someone who works at a hospital. I smell like blood and vomit." She rolled her eyes, but there was a playful smile on her lips._

_"Yeah," agreed Stiles, still grinning. "I like the blood part." Scott dragged him away soon after that._

School was difficult for him as well. He was surrounded by humans, nervous anxious humans, with their loud rabbit heart beats, their pulsing veins, necks always exposed. The first time he'd stepped foot back onto the campus he hissed, eyes searching out the nearest target. 

He spotted a man only a few feet away, sitting on the hood of a car. It would have been so easy for him to just walk up and bite down. It would have been delicious, like his first time feeding from the vampire. He thought of biting into its neck with his dull fangs, and then the subsequent hand-feedings from Derek. Maybe he did miss Derek. 

The hallway of the school wasn't much better. He barely made it inside before his eyes started to blacken and low hisses escaped his throat. The hallway was full of so many heartbeats, so many breathes. He tried to keep his eyes on the ground. He thought maybe if he couldn't _see_ the other students it might not be so bad. He was wrong. 

With all other sensory outputs blocked he could only focus on one thing. He put his hands over his ears and leaned against a locker, feeling his nails elongate. Eventually he heard a bell and they faded, but he knew he wasn't in any condition to go to class. Scott escorted him home. As he did Stiles stared at his throat, wondering just how much force he'd need to use to rip it open.

\-------

Dereks time away from Stiles wasn't any easier. He didn't like not knowing the whereabouts of his vampire. He asked Peter to keep an eye on Stiles in his spare time, but he couldn't get close enough without Scott picking up on the scent, and Peter was only ever as helpful as Peter wanted to be. 

Derek knew the McCall boy would _try_ and take good care of him, but a fledgling vampire needed twice as much blood as an adult to survive. Scott - even with Deatons help - wouldn't be able to produce that on his own. He almost regretted not giving him some of the blood capsules, if only because it would keep his vampire sated for a few more days. 

At the time he had been feeling annoyed, vindictive, and maybe even a little possessive. Stiles seemed reluctant to leave the alphas home, and whenever Scott asked a question he would look to Derek for the answer. His behavior only encouraged his wolf to try and keep him close, but the problem of Scott still remained. 

Derek knew Scott would never let his friend go, not unless it was necessary. So Derek made plans to ensure it was necessary. He ignored Stiles calls, and went on with his life as usual. It almost pained him to do so, but it would make things easier for both of them in the long run. 

He wasn't surprised when three days into his separation Scott called in the middle of the night. His voice was frantic, in the background he could hear angry hissing and the screech of nails on wood.

"Stiles is fucking feral. My mom came home with blood on her shirt, he lunged at her-" there was another loud slamming noise. "He's been getting _worse_. I need he-" he heard Scott roar, than a screech, than more struggling. 

It was less than twenty minutes before Peter and Derek arrived at the house. Scott managed to force Stiles into a corner and shove him in a closet, but the evidence of their fight lay in wake around the house. Tables were upturned, claw-marks littered the walls and the floors, lamps were broken, and Scott had a cut along the left side of his cheek, and another stretching the entire length of his right forearm. The cuts weren't as deep as a werewolves, but vampires were their natural enemies, they would need time to heal. 

"I warned you this would happen," Derek glared at Scott, who was struggling to keep the door closed on his friend. 

"I don't need your sass right now!" Exclaimed Scott as he worked on keeping the door shut while Stiles pounded and snarled from the inside, hissing and scratching like a feral cat.

"Where's your mom?"

"She left after Stiles lunged at her. He was acting weird all week, but I-I didn't think-"

"Stiles was acting weird? How unheard of."

"Shut up!" shouted Scott and Derek in unison. 

"Did he bite her Scott?" 

"No, but he would have! He tried biting me too." There was another slam from behind the door. 

"Let him out." 

"Are you crazy? While hes black-eyed and buggy?" 

"I'm just as much a fan of the boy coming out of the closet as anybody else, but right now maybe we should just let him deal with his own issues," hissed Peter. He didn't like the idea of the angry, fledgling vampire being turned loose, not while he was feral. To make matters worse it was the dead of night and he could just as easily escape onto the streets and make a run for it. 

"Yes, and there's three of us and one of him. We just need to catch him and get him back to the loft. Once he's there we'll figure out some way to get him to calm down." Scott took a deep steadying breathe before he jumped back from the door. 

Scott knew the creature that surged through the door was Stiles, but not _his_ Stiles. His eyes were black, fangs bared, nails elongated to a point. Scott wasn't afraid of the creature, but he was afraid of the lack of empathy he saw in its dark eyes. 

"Stiles," Derek commanded sharply. His eyes left the window and flickered to Dereks, he started to his but cut himself off when Dereks eyes flashed red. Peter reached out while he was distracted and grabbed him, wrapping one arm around his torso and another around his neck. Stiles screeched and bit down on the arm restraining him. Peter gritted his teeth, a surge of black rushed down his arm. The vampires teeth were sunk in deep. 

"Fine. You want to taste so bad? Taste." Peter yanked his arm up and let Stiles fangs punture the skin further, allowing blood spilling out. 

Stiles yowled. The blood burned his throat and tongue. It didn't taste natural, it didn't taste like the vampire or the capsules Derek had given him before. He tried pulling away and started to struggle more desperately. The shock and pain started to bleed the black out of his eyes and Peter let up on his grip. Stiles fell back on his hands and panted. 

"You are such a fucking asshole, Peter!" They were all for once it was a relief to hear Stiles normal, annoying voice. His eyes started to turn to normal, though black still ringed his iris. 

"Oh, am I now?" Peter crouched down by the panting boy, wiping at his mouth with his sleeves. "I never bit tried to bite _you_ without consent." Stiles looked guilty for a moment, he tried turning away. Peter grasped Stiles jaw in his hands and tilted his head up to look at him.

"You could have killed Scott, or Melissa, and you _tried_ to kill me," Stiles still didn't make eye contact. He opened his mouth to speak but Scott interrupted. 

"He didn't mean it Peter, he didn't know what he was doing," even Scott sounded unsure of his words. 

"We've all had to take responsibility for our actions, now he has to do the same," Peter snapped, glaring at Scott and turning back to Stiles. 

"Apparently Derek didn't think to teach you this. Werewolf blood is poisonous to vampires, and vampire venom is poisonous to werewolves." He held out his bitten arm. The veins in his arm had turned a sickly black, the skin around it stark white. " _You_ did that, because _you_ lost control." Stiles only looked when Peter forced his head down and made him. He winced and tried to jerk away, this time Peter let him. 

". . . I'm sorry," he said quietly, almost whispered. He wanted to deny it, he wanted to say it was all Dereks fault for not feeding him sooner; but he couldn't bring himself to voice those words. 

"What's done is done." Peter recovered his injured arm with his sleeve. 

"You tried to hurt my mom, Stiles," Scott said, in an equally quiet voice. Stiles looked up at him, both boys looked miserable and solemn. He didn't respond. 

Derek allowed Peter to lecture Stiles while he hung back. It would save him the effort of being the bad guy, and Stiles needed to hear it. He cleared his throat after a couple seconds of awkward silence.

"I think I should take Stiles . . . out. . . for a little while." He didn't think he needed to explain where they were going. Scott nodded, Stiles didn't move. "He can stay with me at my place for the time being." Scott grimaced, but Stiles only reaction was to lay his head down on his knees, looking ashamed.

"Well, look on the bright side," Peter said, patting Scott on the back. "Once _you_ come out of the closet you two can finally be together." Scott and Derek growled. Stiles wished he had bitten Peter harder. He thought about lunging at him again, but for the moment he was content to sit quietly in his own misery.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek takes Stiles to find food in the preserve.

Stiles was still aggravated, though the taste of Peters blood kept him from shifting. They had been driving for almost fifteen minutes. 

"Where are we going?" he finally asked.

"To the preserve." It wasn't a surprise. Stiles recognized the route, but he was confused as to how Derek planned on finding human blood in the center of a monster-infested forest at two in the morning. 

"There aren't any humans there," his mouth and throat were dry. His fangs still poked out, unable to retract. When Derek turned his head to look out the window his eyes focused in on the unprotected flesh, and the pulse that lay underneath. His brain knew it was poison but his body didn't care. It was like dying of thirst surrounded by salt water. Derek turned back around before Stiles had time to act on his thoughts. 

"Yes there are," Derek reassured. "I just need to hunt them down first." His tone was prideful, excited. The boys rigid stance did not go unnoticed; his mouth lay partly open with fangs peeking out. He chose not to comment on it, confident that Stiles had learned his lesson attacking Peter. Regardless, the vampire was starving and nearing the end of his renewed self control. 

"How do you know?" he asked skeptically. The conversation distracted him from the dull thud of Dereks heart, so steady and consistent. It sped up when Stiles asked the question. 

"Because, I've hunted there before." Stiles blinked, the wheels in his head beginning to churn. He had hunted with himself and Scott before, but they had never come across or seen any humans. 

He remembered the police reports he'd swiped from his fathers desk. They were labeled as 'animal attacks'. Multiple victims in the preserve, all with slashed and mutilated corpses. Scott and Stiles had tried hunting the creature, but never any luck. They assumed it was a feral wolf, or even a wendigo. Derek hadn't even been a suspect.

Each of the victims were nearly the same; throat ripped out, bloody, no finger prints, no murder weapon. They weren't particularly long attacks - the victim was usually dead in less than five minutes - six if they could sprint. The crime scenes were gruesome, mutilated messes of blood and guts.

When Stiles asked his father about it he warned Stiles not to go into the woods. The most popular theory was that a bear or wolf had contracted a new and strange kind of rabies that sent it into a violent fervor. However, Sheriff Stilinski believed the crime was too methodical, too . . . joyous for it to be an animal. 

_"Whatever is out there _likes_ killing, Stiles. Sometimes it lets the bodies bleed out, with huge gaping holes in their chests, and it's never even nibbled a corpse. No wolf or bear does that. There is clear intent to hurt and kill these people._

"You?" he wasn't sure if he'd lost all empathy for the human race, or if shock from the days events kept him from feeling horrified. He had seen Derek kill before - many times, actually - and it only now dawned on him that Dereks favorite way to kill was ripping out the throat. He fit the monster perfectly, and it would explain how it managed to avoid Scott and himself for so long. 

"Me." Derek answered the unspoken question. Stiles tried to pretend he didn't see the corners of his mouth turn up in a smirk. 

"My dad said it might be some kind of rabies, maybe a rabid bear attack or something. What did you do with the bodies?" He still didn't feel as afraid as he should have. Derek had fed him to a vampire only days ago, but he felt no fear or distrust. 

"The bodies?" Derek asked. "Nothing. I just left them to rot, I had no use for them. I do now though," he chuckled. Stiles hummed in response. 

"How long?"

"Long enough."

It felt nice to talk about his 'hobbies' with someone; especially someone as intelligent as Stiles, who would fully understand what he was doing, why he was doing it. Letting him on the secret was fun, he didn't even mind the uneasy way the boy shifted away from him. He would lose his fear soon enough, once he realized he wasn't a potential target. In time maybe he could train Stiles to help him, or get information about the cases from his father.

Derek pulled over once they'd driven far enough into the preserve not to be sighted by any unwanted parties. Stiles watched him cautiously. 

"Stay here," he commanded, handing Stiles a pill. "I'll be back soon." He didn't wait for a response before leaving the vehicle and running off into the woods. 

\------

A few minutes later Derek returned smelling like blood. Stiles growled and hopped through the open window of the car. He pressed his face up to the side of Dereks neck and sniffed. He felt Dereks hands on his hips, pushing him away. He led Stiles up a rocky hiking trail, the closer they got the stronger the scent of copper and iron intensified. 

The campsite was in tatters. A girl lay just outside the distressed tent, blood spilling out onto the ground; her stomach had been slashed. Another corpse slumped over a log near the woman - a man this time - he had large gashes down his side and back. He had fallen forward, but Stiles could still see the red entrails sticking out of his gut. He could hear Derek practically purring next to him. 

"I left the throats in. Usually I rip them out first - with my teeth," he sounded proud. Stiles felt his arms wrap around him from behind, pressing his nose to his neck, similar to how Stiles had done earlier. "But I left them in for you." He spoke like he was giving Stiles a gift, eagerly awaiting his reaction to it. Stiles thought of all the times Derek threatened to do the same to him, he hadn't realized how close it'd come to being a reality. 

Stiles hesitated as he stared at the bodies. The woman was brown-haired and beautiful like Melissa. He remembered the way his nails dug into her arm, he remembered the way Scott had pulled him away and thrown him into the table. He heard Melissas screams again and it . . . it didn't make him feel bad, but it did make him hesitate. He didn't want to hurt Melissa. 

"Stiles," Derek commanded gently. " _Shift_ ," and he did. Stiles blinked once and his eyes were black, nails elongating themselves. His tensed posture relaxed. Derek was pleased. "Good boy, now eat." He motioned back towards the girls body and let go of him. Stiles lowered himself onto his knees and bite down on the still-warm neck. He thought he felt a twitch or a muscle spasm. 

His brain became fuzzy as the first drop of blood hit his tongue. The blood haze clouded his senses, taste was the only one he could reasonably rely on. He didn't even realize someone had crouched down next to him until he felt a hand petting him. Stiles lifted his head and hissed in warning. He didn't like another predator being so close to his food. 

"It's alright," Dereks voice was soothing. "It's just me." Stiles relaxed again. He still didn't want Derek near his food, but he could tolerate his presence. Derek was a friend, Derek brought him food. Derek was. . . well not 'alpha' but he is _something._ He resumed feeding on the corpse.   
\--------------

Derek continued to smile as he let Stiles feed. When he finally lifted his head his eyes were returning to normal, and he seemed satiated. Derek purred. Stiles was all his now. Scott knew he was dangerous, he wouldn't try to take him back, not if he was smart. 

Stiles looked so beautiful with the moon in his eyes and fresh blood on his lips. His eyes were back to being doe-brown, but even without the black his pale skin contrasted the red beautifully. 

Derek leaned forward and kissed him. Stiles jolted a bit, probably in shock, and tried to pull back. Derek kept a firm hand on the back of his neck, claws at his throat, keeping him in place. He licked some of the blood from his mouth and pulled back. 

"You are so pretty." He leaned his forehead against the vampires and nuzzled him. Stiles let out a nervous, awkward laugh. He had never been called 'pretty' before. 

"Um, thanks," he flicked his tongue out to lick up the rest of the blood still coating his mouth. Derek pressed his lips against Stiles again, softer this time, and retracted his claws. Stiles didn't try to pull away.

After a minute or two they broke apart. Derek breathed huskily in Stiles ear. "You're mine now. I'll take care of you, never try to leave." He nuzzled the boys neck and Stiles purred in response. 

"Okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry if this isn't very good. College started up this week and it's kinda been kicking my ass T.T I'll try to update more regularly once things get settled.


	7. Chapter 7

Stiles made Derek get rid of the bodies. He knew what his fathers team would look for if they found the encampment, and he didn't need his own DNA - mangled as it was - showing up at a crime scene. Derek accepted the explanation, and reluctantly deposited the remains in a creak a few miles away.

When Derek returned the campsite was even more disassembled than how he had left it. He watched with a puzzled expression as Stiles slashed and clawed at every available surface. 

"What are you doing?" He asked once the routine had started to get repetitive. 

"Pretending to be a bear," Stiles responded, cocking his head to one side. "That's what the police think." Derek nodded and continued watching him in silence. Neither commented on the kiss they had shared. Once Derek had let him go Stiles started to feed on the second body, though he lamented that the wounds Derek inflicted caused too much bloodshed. 

Derek tried and failed to blame the moon for his actions. He didn't know entirely what had possessed him to act the way that he did but he didn't regret it. He drove them back to the loft, and gave Scott a brief courtesy call to check in on Melissa. Stiles wore a guilty expression as he listened to the conversation. 

"Stiles," Derek took Stiles face in his hands once he'd hung up the phone; the vampires skin was even colder than the corpses. He titled his head so that they were staring into each others eyes. Red met black and did not look away. "It isn't your fault." Stiles hissed; he knew whos fault it was. 

"It wasn't," Derek repeated, pressing his lips against the vampires once again. His skin was so warm. "You're just a fledgling, and you were hungry." He let Dereks tongue pollute his mind with his words, and soon after his mouth. 

He told him how Scott let him down, Scott was to blame. He didn't even try to help. But Derek was there now, and Derek would help him. He had brought him food and he would continue to do so, for as long as was needed. 

Stiles easily swallowed down his words, letting the false sincerity in the werewolves voice lull him into a sense of security; because to Stiles it all made sense. It was much easier to accept that Scott had caused the biting incident through inaction, than to admit he willingly chose to play the part of the predator that night. It wasn't true, but it was the truth he was equipped to deal with. 

Scott had looked at him with such trusting eyes, he believed wholeheartedly Stiles could never hurt another soul. In doing so he left Stiles to pull himself out from his own grave, alone and with only the haunted voice in the back of his mind to guide his actions. The problem was he didn't necessarily want to leave his mental grave. He was technically dead now, and it was getting harder and harder to cling to the part of him that still beat only once per minute. He wondered if his heart would one day stop completely. He wondered if he would notice. 

But then there was Derek. Derek was the one who threw him in the hole and heaped on the dirt; Derek, who could no longer see the lies on his lips. Stiles had only gotten better at reading the ones on Dereks. 

Stiles smiled as his distrust evaporated to indifference. Derek only did things that benefited himself, he could see that now. But that was fine, Stiles didn't care so long as it benefited him too. For now Derek fed him, so for now Derek was his friend, his leader. He watched him with curious black eyes. 

Derek wondered if Stiles actually believed what he told him, or if he just didn't have the energy to fight anymore. He did feel bad for what happened, he had honestly expected Scott to put a stop to it before anything got too out of hand. Apparently he overestimated Scotts abilities. Again. 

He pressed his lips to Stiles once more and kissed him, underneath the coppery taste of blood he was so sweet.

\---------------

"I just . . . I don't know what to say. I never meant to hurt anyone," Stiles couldn't look his father in the eyes. He didn't know if they were black or brown. The sound of the clock ticking was the only noise that passed between them. 

"Melissa says you attacked her. That's not like you, Stiles. " Stiles hurt at the sound of disappointment in his fathers voice. Regardless of what became of him he would always care what the sheriff thought. He kept his eyes trained on the sofa as he spoke. 

"I've been feeling overwhelmed, lately. Everything that's been going on it just . . . everything feels so out of my control."

"What's going on with you? You've been acting strange since I got home." The concern he heard was worse than disappointment; it made Stiles hang his head. Melissa agreed not to tell John his son had become a vampire, so long as Stiles did it on his own sooner rather than later. Stiles had no intention of telling. He couldn't. 

_"I'm not doing it to hurt you sweetie; I forgive you, but John should know to be careful." Stiles whined._

_"He'll think I'm a monster." Derek rubbed his back comfortingly as he listened in. They sat on Dereks bed, with the pillow he'd mutilated his first night as a vampire sitting in his lap. His vampiric claws punctured the soft material, letting him get out some of his anxiety._

_"No parent thinks their child is a monster, not when they can't control who they are." Stile didn't agree with her, but his oppositions went unvoiced._

"I . . . I don't know." He couldn't do it, he couldn't face that fear. For the first time since being changed he worried how being a vampire might effect those around him. He couldn't convince himself that he wouldn't be hated. 

"Stiles, look at me." Stiles lifted his head, and look at John through eyes that wouldn't - or couldn't - tear. "I love you, you know that, right?" Stiles nodded, resisting the urge to look away again. John moved forward and he instinctively flinched back. He didn't want to feel the beating of his heart. "Stiles," John looked hurt, and Stiles gave a small, flickering smile. 

"Sorry," he said quietly. John moved forward again and pulled his son into a hug. Johns heart beat loudly in his ears, Stiles closed his eyes to block out the sound, and the voice in his head chanting 'bite, bite, bite'.

"I don't know what's wrong with you; but we'll figure it out together, okay?" Stiles nodded, hoping they never would. John pulled away, and gave Stiles an awkward but paternal pat on the back.

"Go take a shower or something, alright? You're freezing, I don't want you getting sick." Stiles nodded and retreated to his bedroom. _I already am sick._

He entered his room and leaned his forehead against the door. He couldn't think straight, the human Stiles and the vampire Stiles were in conflict with each other. The human one wanted to run downstairs and confess to everything, while the vampire just wanted to go outside and find more food. 

Standing next to him, Derek gave a sympathetic but approving nod. 

\-----

Derek embraced the vampire once he'd reentered the bedroom. He still wasn't comfortable letting Stiles back into the hands of anyone else. Even bonded as they were he felt uncomfortable when they parted for too long. 

"Good boy," he murmured in Stiles ear. 

"I didn't do anything?"

"I know," Derek nodded. "That's what makes you so good." 

"I don't want to hurt him, Derek," Stiles voice cracked when he spoke. Derek hugged him tighter and turned him around so they were face-to-face. "I don't want to hurt anyone." 

"Shh, you won't. I'm here to make sure of that. I'm going to train you so that you never have to hurt anyone." Stiles nuzzled against his shoulder, enjoying the comfort that Derek provided. Derek was so warm, it was a shame he couldn't bite him. He leaned up anyways and playfully nipped at Dereks ear. Derek gave a quiet, equally playful growl in response and pushed Stiles towards the window.

"C'mon. Let's get you back to the loft," Derek nodded towards the open window. They agreed leaving Stiles alone at his fathers house would be unwise. He couldn't risk the potential damage that might befall his father. It would be best if Stiles spent his nights with Derek, and returned home only at dawn, when his powers and blood lust were weaker.

Derek really just wanted to get the fledgling back to his home, where he could be alone with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry about all the delays in this story. I do intend to finish it.


	8. Chapter 8

It wasn't for another two weeks that Dereks desire to kill sprung up again. He had a target in mind, by now his victim would be alone and at home, but first he needed to pick up his alibi.

He'd reluctantly allowed Stiles to return to school. Much as he would have liked to avoid it his father would know if his son had been skipping out; and letting the sheriff catch on to his sons new condition wouldn't be wise. 

For the past two weeks Stiles had been satiated with blood packs and a more consistent feeding schedule, but Derek could tell his claws too were itching for something fresh. 

He waited against the camero with his arms crossed in the school parking lot. A few students turned to look at him as they passed and whispered quietly to themselves. He let out a growl when their stares lingered too long, a growl that sent them scattering. 

He wasn't waiting long before the boys appeared on the steps, it brought a small smile to his otherwise solemn face. Stiles wore a dark hoodie pulled up to shade his eyes. His hands were hidden under his sleeves. He squinted and kept his head down, somewhat hiding behind Scotts shadow. He laughed at something Scott said and playfully nudged his shoulder. Scott smiled and shoved him back as he looked out over the parking lot, he saw Derek and the smile dropped from his face. Stiles followed Scotts gaze to where he was standing. 

Derek didn't miss the almost imperceptible way Stiles pupils widened and his shoulders tensed when he saw him. He looked like he wanted to run over to Dereks side like a puppy when its master came home. He almost smirked but for Scotts sake refrained. 

"Feed me Seymour, I'm hungry!" Stiles exclaimed, reaching his side a second later. He sniffed at Derek, smelling no trace of blood on him. "Where are we going?" he asked, by now his eyes were starting to blacken and sharp fangs were beginning to show. Derek had to stop his hands from petting the boy. 

"Out of town," he said. He didn't need Scott trying to follow them. 

"You don't-" Scott started, stumbled over his words for a moment. "You don't have to go with him." Both Derek and Stiles turned to stare. Scott should know better than anyone that Stiles needed to feed and soon, evidenced by his darkened eyes. 

"I could take you to the hospital. You're okay with blood packs, right? Mom says people die all the time there. We could put you in a room with one of them and gaurd the door. A lot of old people get euthanized." Scotts words became more of a rambling. 

"Scott. That is a fantastically _bad_ idea." Derek straightened up, stepping closer in an attempt to intimidate. "When people are euthanized the blood is poisoned. If Stiles drank something like that it could kill him." It wasn't a lie. "And what would the hospital say when your mothers patients all end up with bite marks on their necks, bites that look like needles? Could you risk her job like that?" Scott bit his tongue and shifted weight from one foot to the next. 

"Even if we _could_ get away with it, would you really want Stiles to kill an innocent person? At least this way no innocent lives are lost." Scott didn't need to know where the bodies came from, and Stiles wasn't about to ask. Derek had said something about hunters needing to put down their own kind occasionally, but his story had been vague. Thus far they hadn't questioned it, didn't want to question it. 

Scott looked like he was about to protest again, but Stiles interrupted. "Do you really want that, Scotty?" His eyes were sad, they had faded back to their normal color and shape. "I don't want to kill anyone, I don't want to decide who dies." _Good boy_. Derek made a mental note to reward him later. 

"I'm just trying to look out for you," Scotts voice sounded so defeated. He patted Stiles shoulder in a very brotherly manner. _Well, at least somebody is._

"Get in the car now, Stiles." Stiles gave one last look back at his friend before scuttling to the passenger side door. Dereks wolf purred at the show of obedience. He gave a last look at Scott. 

"I'll take good care of him." Derek wondered why Scott bothered to suppress the glare.

\-----

It was peculiar how Stiles eyes would change color for different reasons. The were always black, but it was different somehow - distinguishable. The more time he spent with the boy the better he got at learning the subtle differences them. 

The first darkness was the void; it was an empty, careless sort of dark. This kind of darkness only appeared when Stiles was upset or hungry, it was the kind he'd seen his first night with Stiles, and the kind that reappeared when Stiles attacked Melissa McCall. When in that state he didn't seem to recognize others as either friend or foe, only 'food' and 'not food'. 

The second was the one he liked the most. This kind was curious, empty but not completely. Staring at him was was like looking into a lake - he might only see black, but he knew something lay underneath the waters- moving, thinking, and very much alive. This was his sub-state darkness. 

When Stiles was in this state he could take in and process information. He stared at Derek like he was staring at an unfamiliar animal. Sometimes it unnerved him a little. But Stiles never attacked and showed no signs of aggression. He was even somewhat submissive, only ignoring Derek if something more tempting came along; like a corpse. 

Derek stared down into those dark, obsidian eyes while he gently stroked his hair. Stiles head rested against his thigh, laying contentedly after his meal. The kill had been another easy one, very little mess involved. He still let Stiles lick the blood off his fingers as was the tradition. 

"Der, can I ask you a question?" Stiles asked, interrupting his thoughts.

"No," Derek gruffed, but cast a glance at Stiles to show he was joking. 

They rested in the mess of his victims apartment. No blood remained and the corpse was securely wrapped in a tarp within Dereks trunk. Derek saw no reason they couldn't stay for a little while and enjoy the air-conditioned room and over-plush couch. 

The man he had killed owned a gas station downtown. Judging by the expensive looking car in the garage the business was a front for something else. He didn't really care what it was, so long as his involvement in the criminal underbelly prevented his disappearance from being looked at too closely. 

". . . Okay well cover your ears than," he glanced back up at Derek with a small smile. 

"What is it?" 

"Why a vampire? I mean why not a wendigo? Wendigos eat human flesh, there'd be no body left behind." Derek ran his hands through Stiles hair like he would a kitten. He pondered the question. 

"I did considered it, but a vampire was the easier choice. To become a wendigo you need to be eating nothing but human flesh, sometimes for weeks. I didn't think it was something I could convince you to do on your own, and keeping you hidden from Scott that long would have been difficult, plus," Derek brushed his hand lightly down the boys cheek, "I thought force feeding you human flesh for a week might damage our relationship." Stiles wrinkled his nose but didn't pull from the touch. 

"Yeah, I mean feeding me to a vampire wasn't all that pleasant either." Derek pulled Stiles up to rest his head more comfortably in his lap while he continued to stroke his hair. He liked that Stiles had let it grow out some, it separated him nicely from the frail obnoxious teen he used to be. Like werewolves, turning into a vampire had lessened Stiles inability to focus, he had become a more calm, easily placated individual. He did not resist Dereks arms pulling him up on the sofa, and even leaned into his pets. The warm touch of Dereks skin felt nice against cold forehead. 

"But you survived."

"Yeah, I did." Stiles closed his eyes, letting out a yawn as he stretched his body out on the sofa like a lazy cat, extending his arms to expose his milky white stomach as his shirt lifted up. Derek wondered how prettily Stiles skin would mark up.

"Stiles?" his eyes opened again. They had flashed back to his normal doe-brown. He tilted his head to one side wordlessly. Derek took a moment to think over if it was what he truly wanted to do. 

"Would you like to kill the next one?" he asked, a smile flitted over his lips. He always smiled more when in the presence of his murderous companion. The murderous companion he made. 

A dark shudder ran down Stiles body, his eyes shifted suddenly from brown to black as they always did when he was excited. 

"Yes," he said simply, flicking his tongue out over his lips. Stiles smiled at him.


End file.
